OOC: This would be rooves of buildings probably, as the HQ itself does not have a roof over the whole, but does have buildings in it.
OOC: Reading the rest of the thread, I am confused on the position of the fort. Is it being attacked from the front, and then by ships on the other end of the fort that is near a body of water?
OOC: The ships are at the sea, and they are many miles away from the fort. I think Shamrock may be confused as to the West Sea's position relative to the fort. The fort is being attacked from the right side I believe, as it's front is facing towards the Lion City, and it's right side is facing towards the Grassy Plains. It also has a forest near, on the right side.
The sudden reaction of the tanks blasts numerous biplanes out of the air, but their trajectory results in most of them crashing straight into the wall and roof of the HQ, the bombs they are carrying going off under the force of the impact.
The rest of the Hunter planes pull up after dropping their bombs and regroup west of the stronghold. Instead of circling around for another bombing run or retreating north-east, they begin to climb higher and higher into the sky, quickly becoming little more than barely distinguishable specks.
The infantry's progress is stalled by the ninja, and they stop short of the carboat blockade, focusing on regrouping and locating the nearest ninja by freezing the surrounding area.
Meanwhile, any sentries posted on the coastline behold a terrifying sight.
The Sabretooth Fleet has returned.
The wooden sailing ships that survived the previous battle now move with the power of motor engines, whilst they are accompanied by dozens of ironclad gunboats, cannons turning to aim at the shoreline. In their midst, a huge dreadnought stands out from the other vessels, its next-generation weapons and armour visibly powerful enough to strike fear into even a seasoned foe.
OOC: I don't think the Minor Tribes HQ is all that near the coast by the way. xP
OOC: Ah. I was operating on the basis that it must be just a few miles from the shoreline, as I'd previously landed an army by sea to attack the HQ. ...But now that I think about it I suspect I've been misreading the map for a while. My recollection was that the coast slopes eastward in the area north of the map, so that the Minor Tribes' lands would border the West Sea to the north, but I also remember something about the Iron Mountaines protruding north-west of the map...my bad.
The sudden reaction of the tanks blasts numerous biplanes out of the air, but their trajectory results in most of them crashing straight into the wall and roof of the HQ, the bombs they are carrying going off under the force of the impact.
The rest of the Hunter planes pull up after dropping their bombs and regroup west of the stronghold. Instead of circling around for another bombing run or retreating north-east, they begin to climb higher and higher into the sky, quickly becoming little more than barely distinguishable specks.
The infantry's progress is stalled by the ninja, and they stop short of the carboat blockade, focusing on regrouping and locating the nearest ninja by freezing the surrounding area.
Meanwhile, any sentries posted on the coastline behold a terrifying sight.
The Sabretooth Fleet has returned.
The wooden sailing ships that survived the previous battle now move with the power of motor engines, whilst they are accompanied by dozens of ironclad gunboats, cannons turning to aim at the shoreline. In their midst, a huge dreadnought stands out from the other vessels, its next-generation weapons and armour visibly powerful enough to strike fear into even a seasoned foe.
OOC: This would be rooves of buildings probably, as the HQ itself does not have a roof over the whole, but does have buildings in it.
OOC:. OK. Either way, the roofs are collpasing, and you've got incoming snow.
OOC: This would be rooves of buildings probably, as the HQ itself does not have a roof over the whole, but does have buildings in it.
OOC:. OK. Either way, the roofs are collpasing, and you've got incoming snow.
IC: Suddenly, the groups of eager beavers loose their footing. One nearly tumbles off the rampart, but is caught by the arm by his fellow tribesman. Another slips, crashing into a farmer's cart and drenching those nearby with squashed fruit.
Looking around him, Byrum's ears twitch. Itching it, he notices silvery flakes on his hand.
A giant mound of snow comically falls from the sky and engulfs the whole group. Poking his head out, Beale watches as buildings begin to creak under the pressure before caving in. "fIx...iT...fIx *shakes himself* Wha, how could I think of inventing at a time like this!"
Squirming, he loosens his arms free and begins to tunnel through the snow, his Fire Chi aiding him. At the center of the snow mound he finds his brother huddled in a group, a sword powered by Fire Chi being used as a makeshift campfire.
"Byrum! Is this everyone?"
"All we'd could find at the moment."
A bear scratches his head. "It'll take awhile for this thick snow to melt."
Beale nods. "Perhaps if we amplified our Fire Chi?"
Outside, Hunter forces continue to beat down against the remaining defenders of the Minor Tribe Fort.
Petricoff swerves, trying to take a sharp left in light of the spikes' formation, but he doesn't turn in time to avoid contact, and the right side of his speedor slams against the wall of ice. The peacock falls from his speedor and rolls on the ground, as his speedor spins, its backside smashing into and shattering part of the ice wall, before it comes to a stop on a nearby boulder. Petricoff grunts and pushes himself up, stumbling through the part of the ice wall that was broken open by his speedor.
As the Triplane flies over the ice block, Finglor leaps from the cockpit, swallowing an orb of Chi mid-leap, and lands in a crouched position on the ground not far from Petricoff. Having landing a little ahead of the peacock due to the Triplane's speed, the sabretooth king draws his sword and strides toward Petricoff, triumph written on his face.
"It is over, peacock. The Fire Wing Harness will be mine, one way or another. Yield it to me willingly, and you may leave alive and unharmed."
As the Triplane flies over the ice block, Finglor leaps from the cockpit, swallowing an orb of Chi mid-leap, and lands in a crouched position on the ground not far from Petricoff. Having landing a little ahead of the peacock due to the Triplane's speed, the sabretooth king draws his sword and strides toward Petricoff, triumph written on his face.
"It is over, peacock. The Fire Wing Harness will be mine, one way or another. Yield it to me willingly, and you may leave alive and unharmed."
The five peacock bodyguards Petricoff has with him catch up on their speedorz, swerving in front of Petricoff to get between him and Finglor. Two of the five speedorz come right at the sabertooth, seemingly intending to ram him.
The five peacock bodyguards Petricoff has with him catch up on their speedorz, swerving in front of Petricoff to get between him and Finglor. Two of the five speedorz come right at the sabertooth, seemingly intending to ram him.
Snarling, the sabretooth king launches into a chi-powered leap. He somersaults over the first of the two speedorz and thrusts his blade downwards, stabbing it downwards into a non-critical part of the vehicle just behind the rider. Anchored to the speedor by his sword, Finglor spins around and slams his full body weight into the peacock riding it, throwing the bodyguard from the speedor. Releasing his grip on his sword hilt, Finglor swings his leg over the vehicle and settles into the seat formerley occupied by the peacock. Hands grasping the controls, the king of the sabretooths slams the speedor to a halt and spins it around, turning to face the remaining four bodyguards.
The five peacock bodyguards Petricoff has with him catch up on their speedorz, swerving in front of Petricoff to get between him and Finglor. Two of the five speedorz come right at the sabertooth, seemingly intending to ram him.
Snarling, the sabretooth king launches into a chi-powered leap. He somersaults over the first of the two speedorz and thrusts his blade downwards, stabbing it downwards into a non-critical part of the vehicle just behind the rider. Anchored to the speedor by his sword, Finglor spins around and slams his full body weight into the peacock riding it, throwing the bodyguard from the speedor. Releasing his grip on his sword hilt, Finglor swings his leg over the vehicle and settles into the seat formerley occupied by the peacock. Hands grasping the controls, the king of the sabretooths slams the speedor to a halt and spins it around, turning to face the remaining four bodyguards.
Petricoff glances to his right, eyeing a river to the near south. He nods to his bodyguards and dashes toward it on foot, as the guards move their speedorz to stop Finglor from catching up to their leader.
Snarling, the sabretooth king launches into a chi-powered leap. He somersaults over the first of the two speedorz and thrusts his blade downwards, stabbing it downwards into a non-critical part of the vehicle just behind the rider. Anchored to the speedor by his sword, Finglor spins around and slams his full body weight into the peacock riding it, throwing the bodyguard from the speedor. Releasing his grip on his sword hilt, Finglor swings his leg over the vehicle and settles into the seat formerley occupied by the peacock. Hands grasping the controls, the king of the sabretooths slams the speedor to a halt and spins it around, turning to face the remaining four bodyguards.
Petricoff glances to his right, eyeing a river to the near south. He nods to his bodyguards and dashes toward it on foot, as the guards move their speedorz to stop Finglor from catching up to their leader.
BOOM!
A gaping hole glowing fiery orange embers pierces through the giant snowball trapping the minutemen. They all stare in shock at Beale who remains standing there with a silly grin on his face.
Byrum: "Why didn't you tell us that little gun could do that? I thought it was for making wood chips!"
Beale: "It was...originally."
Climbing out of the snowball, one of the minutemen, a Raven, points to Finglor. "Sirs, that Saber is about to charge!"
Byrum squints as he grabs Beale's weapon and wildly tries to aim for Finglor. "Where, can't see em?" Pointing the gun at the ground in front of Finglor he shoots, the force throwing him backward into a section of his minutemen.
Petricoff glances to his right, eyeing a river to the near south. He nods to his bodyguards and dashes toward it on foot, as the guards move their speedorz to stop Finglor from catching up to their leader.
BOOM!
A gaping hole glowing fiery orange embers pierces through the giant snowball trapping the minutemen. They all stare in shock at Beale who remains standing there with a silly grin on his face.
Byrum: "Why didn't you tell us that little gun could do that? I thought it was for making wood chips!"
Beale: "It was...originally."
Climbing out of the snowball, one of the minutemen, a Raven, points to Finglor. "Sirs, that Saber is about to charge!"
Byrum squints as he grabs Beale's weapon and wildly tries to aim for Finglor. "Where, can't see em?" Pointing the gun at the ground in front of Finglor he shoots, the force throwing him backward into a section of his minutemen.
A gaping hole glowing fiery orange embers pierces through the giant snowball trapping the minutemen. They all stare in shock at Beale who remains standing there with a silly grin on his face.
Byrum: "Why didn't you tell us that little gun could do that? I thought it was for making wood chips!"
Beale: "It was...originally."
Climbing out of the snowball, one of the minutemen, a Raven, points to Finglor. "Sirs, that Saber is about to charge!"
Byrum squints as he grabs Beale's weapon and wildly tries to aim for Finglor. "Where, can't see em?" Pointing the gun at the ground in front of Finglor he shoots, the force throwing him backward into a section of his minutemen.
Petricoff gets to the bank of the river, skidding to a halt.
OOC: Well Shamrock's inactivity has put a lot of things on standby, but I was going to do this anyway:
IC: Petricoff jumps off his speedor, Fire Wing Harness in hand, and stands inches away from the rushing waters.
Petricoff: "The downside of your powers is that you automatically freeze everything you touch. If you Hunters jump into the river, you'll freeze the surface of it around you!"
At the last word, the peacock throws the Fire Wing Harness into the river, and it's immediately carried southwest by the swift current.
Petricoff gets to the bank of the river, skidding to a halt.
OOC: Well Shamrock 's inactivity has put a lot of things on standby, but I was going to do this anyway:
IC: Petricoff jumps off his speedor, Fire Wing Harness in hand, and stands inches away from the rushing waters.
Petricoff: "The downside of your powers is that you automatically freeze everything you touch. If you Hunters jump into the river, you'll freeze the surface of it around you!"
At the last word, the peacock throws the Fire Wing Harness into the river, and it's immediately carried southwest by the swift current.
Finglor's eyes wide as he takes in everything happening around him. He leaps from his speedor, Byrum's shot blasting into the vehicle a few seconds later. Charging ferociously with his sword in one hand and a dagger in his left, Finglor cuts through the four peacocks. As he is on foot whilst they are still sitting speedors, he has the advantage in close quarters and dives between them, slashing or shoving any who come between him and Petricoff. Still, despite the speed and skill with which he smashes or simply pushes aside the guards, he reaches the river just as Petricoff throws the harness.
"You fool! What have you done-"
He breaks off as the sky begins to rain bursts of white energy: the Triplane has completed the circle it began after dropping off Finglor, and has swung back around, now flying west. Its gunners bombard the river just ahead of the harness, ice blocks as big as boulders forming where their shots land. The Fire Harness melts ice that comes into direct contact with it, sending small clouds of steam into the air, but the growing number of mini-icebergs floating a few feet ahead of it mark its progress down the river, so the Sabretooths can track it halfway across Chima if necessary.
Meanwhile, back at the HQ, ice blasts resume pelting out of the sky. But this time they're coming in straight lines, directly out of the sky. Small dots above slowly form into the distant shapes of the biplanes, as the Minor Tribes' realise why the retreating biplanes went straight up. After seeing how accurate the anti-aircraft cannons were, the pilots took their planes as high into the sky as they would go, gathering directly above the HQ. Now they attack again on a vertical line: individual soldiers who crane their necks can see the planes bombarding them, but the heavy cannons that might be able to shoot them down cannot aim straight up, allowing the biplanes to attack unmolested.
Finglor's eyes wide as he takes in everything happening around him. He leaps from his speedor, Byrum's shot blasting into the vehicle a few seconds later. Charging ferociously with his sword in one hand and a dagger in his left, Finglor cuts through the four peacocks. As he is on foot whilst they are still sitting speedors, he has the advantage in close quarters and dives between them, slashing or shoving any who come between him and Petricoff. Still, despite the speed and skill with which he smashes or simply pushes aside the guards, he reaches the river just as Petricoff throws the harness.
"You fool! What have you done-"
He breaks off as the sky begins to rain bursts of white energy: the Triplane has completed the circle it began after dropping off Finglor, and has swung back around, now flying west. Its gunners bombard the river just ahead of the harness, ice blocks as big as boulders forming where their shots land. The Fire Harness melts ice that comes into direct contact with it, sending small clouds of steam into the air, but the growing number of mini-icebergs floating a few feet ahead of it mark its progress down the river, so the Sabretooths can track it halfway across Chima if necessary.
Meanwhile, back at the HQ, ice blasts resume pelting out of the sky. But this time they're coming in straight lines, directly out of the sky. Small dots above slowly form into the distant shapes of the biplanes, as the Minor Tribes' realise why the retreating biplanes went straight up. After seeing how accurate the anti-aircraft cannons were, the pilots took their planes as high into the sky as they would go, gathering directly above the HQ. Now they attack again on a vertical line: individual soldiers who crane their necks can see the planes bombarding them, but the heavy cannons that might be able to shoot them down cannot aim straight up, allowing the biplanes to attack unmolested.
Petricoff stares at the Fire Wing Harness slowly rocking through the icebergs in the middle of the river.
Petricoff: "Darn... What lies at the end of a Great Illumination, that the Hunters fear it so?"
He hears the bombardment on Minor Tribes HQ.
Petricoff: "Guess now's not the time for philosophy. I've done all I could regarding the Fire Wings; my tribe comes first."
Petricoff and any surviving members of his force run across the field toward the town, not even bothering with their damaged speedorz anymore, and instead using their remaining fire chi to power themselves as they try to do what they can for the HQ.
Finglor's eyes wide as he takes in everything happening around him. He leaps from his speedor, Byrum's shot blasting into the vehicle a few seconds later. Charging ferociously with his sword in one hand and a dagger in his left, Finglor cuts through the four peacocks. As he is on foot whilst they are still sitting speedors, he has the advantage in close quarters and dives between them, slashing or shoving any who come between him and Petricoff. Still, despite the speed and skill with which he smashes or simply pushes aside the guards, he reaches the river just as Petricoff throws the harness.
"You fool! What have you done-"
He breaks off as the sky begins to rain bursts of white energy: the Triplane has completed the circle it began after dropping off Finglor, and has swung back around, now flying west. Its gunners bombard the river just ahead of the harness, ice blocks as big as boulders forming where their shots land. The Fire Harness melts ice that comes into direct contact with it, sending small clouds of steam into the air, but the growing number of mini-icebergs floating a few feet ahead of it mark its progress down the river, so the Sabretooths can track it halfway across Chima if necessary.
Meanwhile, back at the HQ, ice blasts resume pelting out of the sky. But this time they're coming in straight lines, directly out of the sky. Small dots above slowly form into the distant shapes of the biplanes, as the Minor Tribes' realise why the retreating biplanes went straight up. After seeing how accurate the anti-aircraft cannons were, the pilots took their planes as high into the sky as they would go, gathering directly above the HQ. Now they attack again on a vertical line: individual soldiers who crane their necks can see the planes bombarding them, but the heavy cannons that might be able to shoot them down cannot aim straight up, allowing the biplanes to attack unmolested.
Squinting his eyes, Byrum looks around for his brother as his vision steadies. Hearing the engines of the bi-planes, yet not able to see them brought fear into his heart...but only for a moment.
For standing there, in glorious light was Beale climbing to the top of the highest tower of the fort. Strapped to him were various "cannons" of varying sizes. Bending his back to face upward, empowered by a Chi Orb, Beale tests his new potato launchers on the fleet of bi-planes. The specially coated potatoes fly up, sticking onto the planes and unleashing the bottle of sleeping gas hidden within them. Beale smirks to himself as he hadn't spared to add a bit of skunk scent into the mixture.
Potatoes fly upward amongst the bi-planes' engines, becoming shredded and unleashing even more gas. Below, Beale dances a jig as if a mad-beaver while continuing the onslaught.